


Blood Brothers

by belovedhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Blood Loss, Blood Pacts, Blood and Torture, Bonding, Demon Blood, Hunter Dean, Hurt Sam, Kidnapped Dean, M/M, Prisoners, Protectiveness, Trapped, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedhell/pseuds/belovedhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean made a major mistake on being kidnapped by a vampire. Now stranded in an abandon area with a stranger named Sam, who had been tortured for months. Dean was determined to save the both of them and kill the blood thirsty vampires who captured him and tortured Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another wincest story that came to me yesterday. Comments are appreciated and lovely. As well as kudos.

Dean couldn't believe he was stuck in a horrible situation. As a hunter he should be ashamed of himself for even falling for a stupid trick. Vampires were certainly easy to kill, but you only had one kill-shot. Dean messed up. Badly.

Now he was being taken by these wicked creatures. A black, silk bag was placed over his head to prevent him from seeing his surroundings. Dean was fucked, he had no back up and now he regretted not telling Bobby where he was going. He could hear his father John laughing from below the grave now, practically saying, "You can't do anything right, Dean."

Currently, he being kept in a confined wooden box and being transported off somewhere. No fucking idea where. Everything just happened too fast, Dean didn't see the other vampire from behind when they had captured him. However, instead of killing Dean, they decided to keep him for further uses. Stupid bastards. It was obvious to him that the vampires were thinking of turning Dean into one of them, but he would be damned if he turned into one of those blood suckers.

Suddenly someone pulled Dean out the crate and then he felt claws digging into his flesh. Dean cursed at not being able to see anything— it was nightfall already— then making matters worse he caught a whiff of something foul. He gulped and tried to move his bounded hands, only to no avail. The rope was too tight for him to budge.

"Hurry up and move!" A male vampire hissed as he pushed Dean.

"What, no please?" Dean replied in a snarky tone, turning to his side to where the supposed voice was coming from, in the end he just received another shove. He staggered forward, still having no fucking clue where he was going.

Dean walked— which felt like hours— when in reality it was just twenty minutes. He had to go through set of stairs which led downwards. Dean tried to memorize and count the turns so whenever he escaped he would know the way out. More likely he was in a nest. The only question that concerned him at the moment was: why didn't the vampires kill him? The nagging answer was roaming through his mind.

The cloth bag was finally taken off and Dean was standing in front of an opened door, yet all he saw was that it was pitch black in there.

"I'm not going in there," Dean said. "There might be cobwebs and spiders." The vampire roughly pushed Dean into the room and closed the door on him.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean barked as he banged the door and kicked it a couple of times... only to his horror, it was extremely thick and had no doorknob. It was an ancient door.

He could hear the faint sound of a two-by-four wood being placed across the door from the other side. Shit. Now nothing could get in or out.

"Fuck!" They had taken his weapons and phone away. Dean was stranded, and for the first time he was terrified. Using his hunter skills to assess his situation, Dean swiftly gazed around, but it was difficult to see anything. The only source of light that was provided him was the moonlight that barely seeped through the boarded windows.

"Are you okay?" someone asked, voice hoarse, followed by a cough.

Dean flinched. "Who are you?" Damn it! He slowly took a couple of steps, "Are you one of them?" He heard a chain clinking about a yard away. There was a stranger there in the same room as him. At least he wasn't alone. Dean wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"N-No. My name is Sam," Sam said. Happy to hear a new voice, it had been awhile since he heard anyone else other than the nasty vampires that came to torture him.

"Hello Sam. I'm Dean. How were you taken—" A bright light abruptly turned on, making Dean scrunched his eyes by the sudden brightness. He hadn't seen light in hours.

"Finally. They turned on the lights—" Sam coughed; he blinked as he looked at the newcomer. He seemed to be around the same age, around twenty five, maybe older. The one thing that caught his attention was that Dean's eyes were a perfect shade of light green. They were beautiful.

Dean spotted Sam at the end of the wall. He was on the ground, his back against the wall, and his ankle chained up. But that was not the worst part... Sam was bleeding. His face was covered in scratches and his wrists were gashed pretty badly as well.

"What did they do to you?" Dean's mouth parted in shock and shook his head as he rushed to the injured man. "Shit. You've lost a lot of blood." Tearing a piece of his flannel shirt from underneath his jacket, Dean wrapped the piece of fabric around Sam's wrist. "Did you do this to yourself?" He needed to know.

"No. They cut me for blood..." Sam winced as Dean tightened the cloth around his wound. It was painful, but at least it would stop the bleeding from dripping down his fingers.

"What? Vampires don't do that," he blurted out the last part, "I mean—"

"They're vampires, I know already. Their fangs give it away, dude." Sam sighed, having trouble leaning forward. He was feeling a little woozy from being drained. Sam was beyond weak.

Dean frowned. This guy had just been tortured and had a lot of blood taken from him. "How long have you been here, Sam?" His stomach knotted as he asked. Judging by all the old and recent scars Sam had all over his arms and face, he'd been here for a while.

"Umm..." Sam paused and took a shaky breath, "Around eight or ten months. I lost count after five..." He licked his dry lips as he coughed. Dean's eyes widened in pure shock.

"Why? Why would they keep you here for so long? It doesn't make any sense!" Dean had hunted many vampires before, but this was something completely new to him. Vampires kidnapped people and kept them alive for maybe a few days, max; they either killed humans by sucking their blood or they turned them into one of them.

So why was Sam still alive?

"T-They said my blood is special," Sam coughed again. He shivered at the sudden coldness and trembled as he wrapped his arms around himself, desperately trying to warm himself up with his own flesh, being careful that he didn't touch his injuries.

Dean blinked. Sam must be getting sick, he was shivering and coughing nonstop. Now that he thought about it the room was getting colder by the minute. The night was getting chilly and the boarded windows did a shitty job of keeping the cold out.

"Shit. You're getting sick— Here." Dean took off his jacket and placed it over Sam's shoulders. "This should keep you warm enough throughout the night." Sam was only wearing a dirty, generic t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. No wonder he was freezing.

Sam lightly smiled, "T-thank you." He shivered once again, then slowly relaxed as he felt the warmth from the jacket. "What about you?" he asked, tilting his head upwards to glance at Dean.

No one was ever kind enough to treat him with such kindness. Other strangers have been with Sam, but they'd been killed after a few days later. Also the fact, that they cared more about themselves in trying to escape than help Sam.

Shrugging, he said, "Don't worry. I'm a tough son of a bitch." Dean grinned and then looked around. The room was somewhat big but it was empty. It was also old and reeked of the dead. "When I'm out of here. I'm killing you assholes!" Dean shouted out loud. "I know you can hear me!"

And right on cue, a loud hiss was heard from outside of the door. Dean cold heartedly laughed, "Right back at you, bitch!"

"They can't be killed..." Sam said lowly, staring at the dusty floor as his fingers tapped against the solid, cold chain. He was disappointed, the same as whenever newcomers had become hope, knowing that none of them ever succeeded when trying to escape.

"That's where you're wrong, man."

Sam snapped his head up. The way Dean spoke was so full of determination, in fact, there was no fear whatsoever in his tone.

"You see, I'm a hunter. I hunt these sons of a bitches." Dean put his hands in his pockets, trying to find something important. The one thing he kept just in case he was in such a situation as this, and the one thing no one would look closely for: a bobby pin.

"Yahtzee." Dean smirked. "We're busting out of here."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been months since I updated this story. My bad. Had writer's block. But I'm starting to get inspiration again on this fic, so finger crossed. Also I edit this story since it had errors in the first chapter, feel free to reread again if you want. Comments and kudos are lovely and appreciated.
> 
> Talk to me? What do you think so far?
> 
> *The villain is Luther from Dead man's blood.

Mouthing the word 'quiet', Dean paced towards Sam. He began to unlock the shackle from his ankle, in less than twenty seconds Sam was free. Dean frowned as he saw Sam's swollen ankle and raw patch of red skin circling around.

"Ouch. Can you get up?" Dean asked, tossing the shackle to the side.

Sam couldn't believe it. He was no longer chained. Shaking his head— now wasn't the time to be emotional— Sam tried to get up with both his feet. "Yeah... Just hurts when I put pressure on it." He wobbly step forward, accidentally putting tension on his injured foot. "Fuck!" Sam staggered, close to falling if it wasn't for Dean catching him.

"Whoa, easy tiger. Go slow."

Blushing, Sam pushed himself off Dean and said, "Slow. Got it." He averted his eyes elsewhere, hoping Dean wouldn't notice his heart hammering, loudly.

Dean raised an eyebrow in confusion at Sam's odd behavior, but didn't comment. Instead he said, "Let's see if we could remove the boards from the windows." Dean headed towards the wall and dug his nails onto the sturdy wood; he could feel the coldness hitting him through the areas where the board was cracked. "Shit. It won't budge."

"I know," Sam said. "That was the first thing I did when I woke up here," he added.

Dean glared at him and said, "Thanks for the heads up, pal." He tried to look pass the cracks, hoping to see that it was unguarded. "No vampires out there— Damn it! The windows have bars around them, even if the boards were removed we still can't escape."

"I know," he repeated.

Dean regretted letting Sam go now. He wasn't helpful and he was starting to annoy Dean. "Sam?" Dean spoke softly as he cocked his head and put on a forced smile.

Talking to someone was something Sam deeply missed, and deep down he was touch starved. Not only that but Sam was beginning to feel a strong emotion for Dean. He set Sam free and he was trying to help him escape. Sam being close to Dean made him want to touch his arms and wrap his arms around him.

"Yes?" Sam's lips quirked upwards.

"Shut up."

Sam closed his mouth and watched as Dean paced around the room to think of another way out. Thirty minutes of silence passed—and yet— Dean didn't come up with any plans. He was fucked. Maybe, Bobby or Ellen would notice that he was missing and look for him. The odds were really slim though.

"Tell me about yourself?" Sam broke the silence, and picked the worst time to talk.

"What is this? The get-to-know-each-other-show?" he snorted. "Sam, can't you see that we're trapped here!" Great. Sam was a talkative kind of guy, Dean would rather be trapped with a vicious vampire than Sam at this point.

Ignoring his snarky remark, Sam smiled, "I'm twenty-five years old, I went to Stanford and graduated with my masters. I work in a part-time job in an animal shelter because I love dogs. Then—"

"Why are you telling me this?" Dean questioned, gritting his teeth. "We don't have time for this bullshit! We need to work together to get out of here!" Why couldn't Sam understand that?

Sam's smile faded instantly. "I'm sorry, Dean. It's just... I have been here for many months and never had anyone to talk to. I just miss having a conversation with someone. I'll stop now if it'll make you feel better." Sam slid down against the wall, his expression hurt.

Now Dean felt like an asshole. Great.

Dean shut his eyes, then let out a huff. Damn it. He couldn't believe he was really doing this. They were prisoners for Christ's sake! "I've been hunting ever since I was a kid. Uh, I'm twenty-nine and a high school dropout. My dad died not that long ago so I'm all alone now. I like to drink beer and flirt with women, mostly frisky ones. There, you happy?" Sam was like a kicked puppy, Dean couldn't say no to him.

"I'm all alone too. I never knew my birth parents. They died when I was an infant, therefore I was sent in an orphanage." Sam hugged his knees and rested on them, it still hurt him to talk about it.

"That sucks. Sorry, man." At least Dean had had a father, had someone to look up to when he was young— even if his dad wasn't father of the year. "So... no one is looking for you?"

Sam sighed as he answered, "No. I guess I was an easy target for _them_. Bonus for my special blood. What about you? Anyone coming for you?"

"If anything probably Bobby. He's been a father figure to me ever since I can remember. Knowing Bobby, he'll get worried if I don't answer any of his phone calls." Dean sat down beside Sam, not like he was going anywhere. He was getting tired. It must be late if Dean couldn't keep his eyes open.

"You should sleep, Dean," was the last thing Sam said.

Dean didn't respond, instead he let darkness consume him.

* * *

The next morning Dean heard hissing and footsteps entering the room, he immediately became alert and stood up. He was not going down without a fight. Sam jolted from his sleep, scared, and his eyes widened as he saw the vampire leader.

"Awe. You guys got close overnight," the leader— Luther— said.

Dean growled. "When I get out of here... I'm going to chop your head off." It was a promise. "You and everybody in your nest."

Luther laughed and stepped closer as he said, "I heard about you. Dean Winchester? The son of John Winchester. Sorry about your daddy." Dean's jaws clenched, he never once backed down when Luther was just a few feet away. "How about becoming one of us? You'd make a fine vampire."

"Fuck you! I'd rather shoot myself." Dean stood his ground as Luther grabbed him by his throat, one claw dangerously close to his Adam's apple.

Sam panicked. "Hey– Leave him alone!" He tried to intervene, but was stopped by Luther's henchmen. "Don't hurt him! Hurt me instead!" Sam watched as Luther let go, less than a second Luther was in front of him. Dean fell onto his knees and coughed.

"S-Sam..." Dean had his hand on his neck, breathing heavily as he peered at the leader.

At least he was safe from Luther, Sam would gladly protect Dean.

"You know what time it is, Sam? Feeding time." Luther's fangs extended from his gums. Sam took a few steps away, he hated feeding time. It was the most painful hour of his life. His back hit against the wall as Luther advanced.

Dean witnessed in horror as Sam was slashed on his arm. Blood came pouring out of his forearm, Sam screamed his lungs out from the agony. He sobbed and his limbs were shaking in fear; the blood never once slowed down. It smelled delicious, all the vampires rushed towards Sam in excitement. Their pupils were dilated with a mixture of hunger and desire.

All Dean could do was look away. He forced himself to close his eyes because he couldn't do a damn thing. He had no weapons. For the first time Dean felt helpless and usless, he tried to drown Sam's screams, but it was fruitless. It went ongoing for a few minutes.

The screaming slowly stopped, causing his eyes to snap open. Dean glanced at their direction.

Once he was done, Luther wiped his bloody chin, "Wonderful blood. See you in a few days, Sam." The remaining henchmen finished drinking his blood and then left with Luther.

Sam was collapsed on the floor, a small blood pool surrounding his forearm. His face was covered with tears and a hint of his own blood was smudged on his cheek.

"Sam!" Dean sprinted to him. "Shit..." He cradled him and inspected his arm— Sam needed stitches, or else it was going to get infected. "I need to stitch you up before an infection spreads through your whole body." Fuck! How was Dean going to do it?

Sam groaned in pain when Dean moved him, then he mumbled, "This is the first time they went overboard with my blood." Sam was getting tired, his body felt weak and was trembling nonstop.

"Stay with me— Sam? Sam!" Dean shook him as Sam's eyes were beginning to close. "We're going to be okay. We're going to get out of here," Dean rambled. Sam risked his life for Dean— a stranger— by distracting Luther. No wonder Luther was rough on him this time. It was almost like a lesson.

"Promise?" Sam whispered, tilting his head upwards to gaze at Dean.

"Promise." And he meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts?


End file.
